costco tender_square every spot in the lot was taken, with vehicles vulture-circling. it was eleven in the morning on a monday. "how are all these people here?" i cried, watching the masses descend upon the big box. "doesn't anybody work anymore?" mom needed a few items; i decided i'd take her up on bulk toilet paper. i hadn't set foot in the store in almost a decade. it's an overwhelming sensory experience. large shopping carts pushed by every shopper with traffic jams galore. forty-foot steel shelves carrying shrink-wrapped pallets of shit in no apparent order. "i like to go down every aisle," mom said. i groaned in response. luckily, we had bought coffees before we arrived and i had something to sip in the stroll. mom debated a triple pack of sippy cups with cartoon figures that seemed too juvenile for her grand-kids and only set them down after balking at the price. she held up a pair of orange yoga pants and stretched the waistband excitedly. "i have too many of these already," she said, and placed the garment back on the open market table. the smell of frozen fish punched our noses and i exclaimed when i saw a tube of sausage thicker and longer than my leg. "i never look at the meat," she said. i wish she had warned me sooner. in the coffee canister aisle, i saw a man whose job i took fifteen years ago. we both have darker hair now. he didn't see me. he walked away with a full cart muttering to himself. i ended up with more than butt-wiping paper. "if you see something you like and you don't get it, it'll be gone next time," mom said. i found a large plastic utility shelf for my cellar. i decided to finally indulge in fabric softener when i've never used it. and i found sarah polley's book of essays in the paperbacks. mom didn't find the metamucil gummies she was hoping to get for dad. but she filled the cart with a bottle of generic allergy pills, a trio of nylon bones for ruby, a box of kitty litter that terri wanted, and a collapsible crate for the garage. shoppers bottlenecked at the exit while workers in red vests studied sale receipts and cart contents before releasing us into the spring sun. 230320 what's it to you? who go blather from